Still Life

Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, nor any of the characters contained therein.

An hour and a half later, none of them had spoken yet. Roger was clenching his fists, staring determinedly down at the floor; eyes focused and brimming with unshed tears. Mimi sat beside him, not touching him, simply watching his face contort with agony. Collins perched on the back of a chair, staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused. The door behind them flew open, and a woman's hysterical voice could be heard.

"Mark! Mark! Oh, Marky…" The woman howled, and buried her face into her husband's coat. He hugged her dutifully, and looked around the waiting room with weary eyes. Roger watched them, Mark's parents, talking to the doctor. He stood up abruptly, and walked across to them, well aware of Mimi and Collins's eyes on his back. He hesitated, and strode up to them, gaining new determination and purpose with every step. The doctor had stopped talking by now, and was watching the young man with the spiked blonde hair and leather jacket elbow Mark's parents out of the way.

"So?" He demanded. "Is Mark okay?" The doctor looked at him, confused. "I'm sorry sir, we don't release patient information to non-family members—" Roger interrupted him,

"Yeah, well, tell it to them, then." He said, jerking his thumb behind him, indicating Mark's dazed parents. "I'll just listen." The doctor bristled.

"I'm sorry, sir, but since you are not a family member—" Roger's one remaining thread of patience snapped.

"Bullshit!" He spat. "I'm more Mark's family than Ward and June over here." Mark's mother drew her self up to her full height, hissing indignantly.

"Excuse me, young man, but I happen to think that Mark would want his parents here—" Roger scoffed.

"Well then, you obviously don't know him very well, do you?" He glared at her, and she returned his fiery gaze. Roger laughed, a note of desperation creeping in. "I mean, God! You people really are something," He continued to laugh, and saw Mimi give Collins a worried glance, and rise from her seat. "I mean, Mark's lying all alone in that room and you won't even tell us, his best friends, his real family," Here he shot a dirty look at the Cohens. "How he's doing!" Mark's mother exhaled angrily.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or how you know Mark, but how dare you presume to tell us about our son!" A vein was popping out in her temple, and he was beginning to look absolutely livid. "Our son, the boy we raised. Our Mark---" Roger blew up.

"Your Mark? You don't even know the first thing about Mark!" He yelled. At this, a nurse came over to them.

"Sir, I warned you once before about this behavior. Either return to your seat now, or leave the hospital immediately." Roger cursed, angrily, and seemed to deflate. He looked contrite, and glanced apologetically at Mark's parents.

"I just want to see Mark." He said, in a voice that was barely above a whisper. He felt a small hand on his shoulder, and jumped. He hadn't heard Mimi come up behind him. He looked down at her, and she offered him a small, comforting smile. Mark looked for Collins, and saw him quietly discussing something with Mark's father, a few feet away. He saw Mr. Cohen nod once, and then return to the group. He addressed the doctor,

"Dr. Williams, would it be alright if Roger saw Mark now?" Roger did a double take, as did Mrs. Cohen, who looked about to protest. Mark's father interpreted her look, "Honey, these are Mark's friends. They've been living with him for years. They have just as much claim to Mark as we do. We'll always be Mark's family, but so will they." His gaze softened, and he took her hand. "Roger is Mark's best friend. All he wants is to see Mark." Mrs. Cohen didn't look completely convinced, but she didn't argue with her husband. The doctor, seeing an opportunity for a peaceful resolution, said diplomatically,

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, there's some paperwork that needs to be filled out, and I still need to go over, in detail, Mark's condition. Perhaps if you let him see your son while we discuss technicalities…?" The Cohens nodded their assent, and went off with the doctor, who was explaining the proper way to fill out the insurance forms. Roger followed the nurse along the corridors until he reached Mark's room. He took a deep breath, grasped the doorknob, and gently pushed open the heavy, wood door. He walked tentatively into the room, and saw Mark sitting up in bed, resting his head against fluffy, white pillows.

"Hey." Roger said.

"Hey." Mark replied.

A/N: All right! One more chapter done, but it took an obscene amount of time for me to post it, didn't it?

Harper's Pixie: I hope this chapter goes a little way to sate your appetite for an angry!Roger?

MandiMooShoe, Mo, BwayDiva: Major props for reading (and reviewing!). I really, really appreciate feedback. Muchos gracias, my friends.

Prose In My Pocket: Thanks a lot for praise. Mark's always been one of my favorite characters, and there's really a lot of room for exploration in his personality. I love seeing different portrayals of Mark, since his dialogue in the musical can be interpreted in drastically different ways.

All right, kiddos, I'd appreciate reviews, if it's not too much trouble. As usual, thanks for reading, it's amazing to have a story with 1000 hits! You guys really are something!